


Questionable Gifts

by zhem1x5



Series: Questionable Gifts [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: hp_creatures, Dubious Consent, Gift, Hogwarts Era, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Humiliation, M/M, Non Consensual, Prequel, Prompt Fic, Series, Verbal Humiliation, Watersports, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-08
Updated: 2013-01-08
Packaged: 2017-11-24 03:17:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/629764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zhem1x5/pseuds/zhem1x5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's always liked the pretty ones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Questionable Gifts

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2012 fest on hp_creatures
> 
> Oh, how they read my mind with this prompt. I've been writing epic universes for Fenrir and Draco for the last year and was so excited for the chance to actually sit and write the way they began. I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it (as strange as that would be to non-fandom people). I have to adore the utterly divine hanyou_elf for abusing me into abusing Draco, she never says no, just 'tell me more'.

He ran, his pulse pounding in his ears and drowning out the sounds of the forest. His lungs burned, working hard to take in a new breath before expelling the one before. He couldn't see, his vision spotty as he sobbed.

Lost. He'd lost Severus. Potter. Severus was with Potter. Potter knew.

Draco stopped, chancing a look around but having no idea where he was. He'd only ventured into the Forbidden Forest once. There were werewolves, he remembered. And centaurs if one believed Potter.

Where was Severus? He couldn't go back alone. Couldn't think let alone speak about the culmination of his mission.

He took a shuddering breath, listening harder, trying to calm down. Severus would never find him if he panicked and did something stupid.

It was too quiet, nothing moved in the forest around him and Draco hoped it was due to his unsteady flight and not because something was in the trees with him.

He could almost feel the difference in the air, a tense silence that he'd only ever experienced in the presence of You-Know-Who and his loyalest Death Eaters. Bated breath and tense expectation.

Draco swallowed loudly, turning in a wide circle.

He saw nothing but could feel eyes tracking his every movement. Draco tried to remember what he knew about centaurs. Deadly shots but reasonably kind to lost, young wizards. Commanding ultimate respect. He had to be unfailingly polite when he met them. No bowing but...

Draco froze as Fenrir Greyback stepped from the shadow of two large trees.

"Were you waiting for me, pretty?" Greyback growled, heavy steps bringing him closer.

Draco shivered, glancing around swiftly, eyes searching quickly for Severus before returning to the hulking man steadily invading his space. Draco had seen his father stare him down but couldn't imagine how. His entire nervous system was failing. Where was Severus? It shouldn't have taken him any time at all to deal with Potter.

Sharp nails slid into his hair. "Have you missed me, little one? All those long months you were away at school," Greyback pressed his face against Draco's throat and inhaled. "I missed the way you smell."

Draco shuddered at the reminder of Greyback's oppressive presence in the manor, following him with his eyes always, pressing against him obscenely when there was no one there to see. His nightmares were filled with Greyback whispering disgusting words of perverse affection, pressing sharp fingernails into his skin as though establishing some lingering hold.

It made Draco feel dirty and low in ways only the nearness and touch of Mudbloods had before.

And there was nothing that he could do about it.

Months of ignoring Greyback, of feeling those too keen eyes on him, of not listening to the rough words growled against his ear, let Draco close his eyes.

Close them and pray to return to Hogwarts.

The dizzying pull of apparition startled him but Draco went willingly, eager now to return home. Even if it was in the company of Greyback.

He swallowed his nausea before opening his eyes, dismayed to find himself surrounded by yet more trees.

"This isn't home," he muttered before he could stop himself.

"No, not home. Not yet," Greyback answered, his voice thick with pleasure as he ran a sharp fingernail down Draco's arm. "But when you're given to me, it will be."

.oOo.

His father had been drinking. Draco could tell by the unsteady but tight grip he kept on his walking stick. His mother refused to look directly at him but kept darting quick glances as though making sure he was whole.

Draco shivered as he preceded Greyback into the hall.

"Ah, young Draco. At last," his Lord acknowledged, amusement coloring His tone. "You see, Severus, the prodigal returns."

Draco jerked to look at Severus but found he would spare him no attention. He tensed worriedly, fisting his hands at his sides.

"As I was saying," his Lord continued, implying Draco's interruption would not be forgotten. "Rewards for service are vital, but punishments for disservice are much more...gratifying."

Draco kept his eyes averted, feeling every eye in the room on his subserviently bowed head. _Please, anything but..._

"Fenrir,” the Dark Lord turned to him, beckoning, “has served me well. And when I inquired what reward he might ask of me, he requested a trophy I found highly appropriate, and given recent circumstances, in my benevolence cannot deny him." He smiled, tight lipped and terrifying. "Your prize," He awarded with a grand gesture toward Draco.

Draco's heart felt like it had stopped and he was certain he had lost all color. Surely He didn't mean... Draco blinked dizzily, stumbling on unfeeling legs when Greyback settled a possessive hand on his shoulder.

He did mean.

.oOo.

They locked him away for days afterward, surrounded by wards that were meant to keep him in and them out. It was a punishment he had suffered frequently but at least they had left him his wand. It didn't matter. Draco could feel him prying and prodding, trying to get in. That wasn't altogether new either, Greyback had been after him since fifth year. And now he would have him.

Draco gripped his wand, whispering protective and shielding spells from the safety of his bed. The spells he had access to were pathetically limited but the familiar grip of his hawthorn wand was a welcome comfort.

It didn't matter. The spells he knew would have been no use behind the wards they had woven around his room. Keeping him in. Keeping them out. It was all the same, he was safe here even if he wasn't and for now that had to count for something.

Gift or not, prize or not, he was still being kept from Greyback during the full moon. They couldn't mean for him to come to any true harm.

.oOo.

It had been years now since she had been in his suite of rooms but his mother came to him on Midsummer's night, soft robes and her favorite pearl handled comb casting colors in the bright candlelight. Draco watched in curious dismay as she laid out his lightweight formal robes and beckoned him to the cushioned chair in front of his vanity.

He sat cautiously, letting her brush his hair like she hadn't done since he was very small, and tried to find the words for their situation. But there were none. She couldn't give him the strength to bear up under whatever the Dark Lord would allow Greyback to do to him anymore than she had his task. And Draco couldn't bring himself to ask it of her.

She sat with him, her presence a quiet comfort as always, until dawn, leaving him as quietly as she had come and sealing Draco inside his room again.

He wasn't sure what it meant and sat fingering the light robes distractedly, eyes straying around his childhood room. He wondered how long he would have to put up with Greyback's watching and commenting before the Dark Lord would forgive him and let him come home.

He could only hope it wouldn't be long, Greyback might begin to get ideas.

.oOo.

The Dark Lord looked him over in sick pleasure, eyes lingering on Draco's softly brushed hair and lightweight robes.

Draco tried to ignore it, occluding his mind, focusing again on how no one looked at him like they should. Severus was there, his mother and father too, but none of them would meet his eyes.

Draco turned his attention to his feet, refusing to look to them for the guidance they were not offering.

Greyback was there too, filthy and disgusting and so bloody smug that Draco wished he'd been tasked to kill him instead.

"Young Draco, on time as is only befitting of your immaculate breeding. Your new master awaits you."

"Ye-yes, my Lord," Draco choked out, chancing one last glance at his mother and father before stepping into Greyback's open arms. They did not look back at him.

And then he was gone.

.oOo.

Greyback, Draco was disgusted to note, was little better than a squib. Not much of a wizard, he didn't even appear to own a wand, though he seemed to take great pleasure in using Draco's against him. At least the filthy creature couldn't perform the more advanced spells with it. There would be no Potter-style slicing him open and leaving him to bleed out when he least expected it. Draco worried it would mean he would find other, perhaps more compromising ways, to bully him instead.

Draco kept to himself, determined to wait out his exile as a Malfoy should, enduring Greyback's long and lingering looks and almost fond caresses.

It would be over soon he whispered to himself in the dark.

.oOo.

Draco watched the sky darken with some trepidation. Tonight was the new moon, he'd been keeping careful track in the dirt, hiding his makeshift calendar with some brush, and he had no idea what that might mean for a werewolf. The DADA textbooks only covered the most dangerous aspects of the full moon.

Knowing what was two weeks away did not make Draco feel any better. He could only hope Severus came for him before then. Before...

Greyback came to him in the night, watching Draco quietly and almost human in his careful mannerisms. It made Draco nervous, wildly conscious of every movement and sound as they watched each other in the dark.

.oOo.

The moon grew out of nothing, a being of pure creation. Rebirth.

Draco wished he could be reborn. Birthed in another place and time, somewhere the Dark Lord could never reach.

Draco guarded himself warily as Greyback became more aggressive with his attentions, spending long hours tracking and watching him, rubbing against him, touching him, whispering to him, expounding on all the monstrous things he had promised to do before Draco had been gifted to him.

Every night Greyback threatened to bite him, promising a new beginning and a rise to greater power than even a Malfoy could ever dream of, promising that the only thing that kept Draco from feeling the sting of his teeth was the injunction against killing or turning pure-bloods. Draco wanted to laugh. His parents would be sensible enough to kill him if he were to ever become such a stain on the family's honor.

He kept his mouth shut, because arguing back made the wolf vicious, eager to establish itself, more likely to snap and bleed him until it was too late to save him.

The moon grew to adulthood in the sky.

.oOo.

He had always been good at Arithmancy and Astronomy, equations and star patterns, but Draco hoped he was wrong, that he had marked down the wrong number of days or was reading the night sky wrong. He hoped that he hadn't really been left to his fate for so long. But the days were adding up and even if he was reading the constellations wrong, there was no misreading the round face of the moon.

And now Draco could only watch the moon rise with more than a little nervous fear. Wait for the howl that would eventually rip through the air, tearing through his nervous system until there was only the need to hide, to disappear before the monster could find him.

But there was nowhere to hide and the beast would be on him soon. 

There was only the wait, gasping out his fear beneath the moon's bright gaze.

.oOo.

Another month passed just the same, another month spent waiting for his mother and father, Severus or the Dark Lord, or maybe even Saint Potter and his merry band of Gryffindors to venture far enough into the wilds to find him.

They didn't.

Greyback grew bolder daily, circling and touching, whispering increasingly filthy and degrading promises of making 'sweet, pure little Draco my bitch'.

Draco couldn't find it in himself to sneer at his suggestions anymore, didn't fight it when it was so much easier to just close his eyes and ignore the insistent fingers pawing at and gripping him, the sharp teeth pressing against his throat, the queer snuffling.

Easier to block his mind and go somewhere else for a little while.

.oOo.

Draco had never sucked a cock in his life, never touched one that wasn't his own; he hadn't even had a thought about it beyond the vague notion that Blaise looked oddly appealing fresh from a shower.

Greyback didn't care about any of that though. It was halfway to the next full moon and the beast inside of him was growing stronger. He tightened one hand around Draco's throat and promised to do more than just choke Draco on his cock.

His other hand was wrapped in Draco's overgrown hair; it provided an excellent hand hold and Draco could feel the harsh scrape of Greyback's nails threatening to split his skull open with every thrust.

Draco clenched his hands in the dirt, in his trousers, in the other man's-- whatever gave him a bit of leverage and the reality of something solid. Because he knew any second now he would wake up, sweaty and terrified by the dream but secure in the knowledge that his father could never fail, that he would never fail his father, and Severus would never allow him to be gifted to a werewolf, to Fenrir Greyback, as a punishment for those failures.

Except the blood that ran into his eyes burned and he was so short of breath he was gagging and a monster out of his nightmares was using him like a 2-Knut whore.

Greyback came fast, encouraged by the presence of blood just as Severus had taught them in third year. He poured himself into Draco's clenching throat with a howl that immediately silenced the forest around them and startled hundreds of birds into the air.

He pressed deeper, shoving himself down Draco's inexperienced throat, making it impossible for the blond to swallow his come so it slipped past his parted lips, dribbling down Draco's pointed chin.

Draco gagged again, jerking away to vomit on the ground.

Greyback let him, pissing on the spot Draco had only seconds ago occupied. 

It was Draco's only warning.

.oOo.

Once it started it didn't stop, Greyback had finally gotten a taste and Draco knew it wouldn't stop until he had gone too far, until Draco was lost and broken. Until he knew his place.

Draco shuddered, praying for his father to hurry.

.oOo.

The first time caught Draco completely unaware. He'd been with Greyback for ages now and was slowly becoming accustomed to waking with his mouth full of a disgusting cock. But apparently he wasn't learning fast enough.

He choked, sputtering awake as the thick stream passed over his chin, soaking the ragged collar of his shirt before hitting him in the face again.

Draco scrambled backward, slamming into the hard brick and stopping because that was as far as he could go. And Greyback only stepped closer, pissing in Draco's hair so he could watch it pour over his clenched shut eyes and grimacing mouth.

He made Draco suck him clean after, coming down the boy's throat when his timid ministrations made him hard enough to do it.

Draco gagged, spitting as much of it out as he could but swallowing so much it was a struggle not to vomit as well.

Draco hoped it was a one time thing, vowing to wake before Greyback, knowing that if he could just please the man somehow... Knowing it was all an exercise in futility but unable to give up hope, unable to give up on someone saving him. His parents, Severus, even the Dark Lord. Surely the degradation had been enough punishment.

But another week passed, Greyback pissing on him whether he was awake or not, making Draco suck him off after like it was the most delightful game.

The werewolf even came to him at random times, opening his fly while he waited for Draco to grudgingly fall to his knees, mouth opening for his cock only to snap shut when he began to piss.

He laughed when Draco was crouched on the ground, trying to take breaths through his mouth so he wouldn't smell it, through his nose when the taste made him gag.

He left him stinking with it, alone for a little while.

It disgusted him when he got used to the smell of it, never the taste though. He even stopped sneaking baths because that only encouraged Greyback.

He tried not to think about what mother and father would say to him now, about what he'd let this man do to him. That wasn't right of course, Draco knew he had little choice in it and that he wouldn't even be here if his father hadn't failed.

It didn't make him feel much better anyway.

Easier to focus on the pain than the hurt.

.oOo.

Especially when Greyback shoved his face into the dirt and ripped through Draco's one pair of trousers.

Draco screamed and spit, trying to claw his way free as Greyback forced him onto his knees. His ragged nails tore long bloody scratches over every part of Greyback that he could reach but it was the night before the full moon and the wolf was hungry.

After months of living and sleeping on the forest floor, his clothing was threadbare and no match for the brutality of Greyback. Something inside of Draco snapped when the older man tore away his pants, something primal and desperate that let him bolt out of the man's hold and scrabble across rocks and bracken in a useless attempt to break free.

Greyback dragged him back again, across rocks that cut and twigs that clung, burying themselves in tender flesh.

He was still screaming when Greyback pulled him upright against his broad chest. A heavy branch slammed into his ribs and for a moment Draco was quiet enough for the man to issue his threat. Silence or Greyback's cock would not be the first thing to stuff Draco's hole.

Draco stared at the branch, gobsmacked, fully aware of and terrified of the damage it could do.

Greyback took his silence for acceptance, shoving Draco back onto all fours and laying the wide branch in front of Draco's face.

“Grip it while I fuck you, little Draco. You'll need something to hold on to.”

Tears filled Draco's eyes as he wrapped hesitant fingers around the rough bark. He touched it softly, trying to reconcile his mind to the consequences of fighting back. Better to take the lesser of the two evils. At least Greyback's cock wouldn't kill him.

That hopeful thought was lost when Greyback shoved his cock into Draco's unprepared hole. All the good intentions in the world couldn't stop Draco's pained screams or his frantic attempts to escape.

He even tried to use the branch as a club but Fenrir caught it before Draco could even heave it off the ground. “Is that what you want, pretty?” he panted filthily in Draco's ear. “Do you want to be split open wide and stuffed so full you can feel it in your throat?”

“No-nononono,” Draco gasped, stilling as Greyback plowed deeper into his arse. He was tearing, bleeding, clenching his teeth with every thrust.

His fingers grabbed ineffectually at the ground, the branch—anything— even though all he got for his troubles were long splinters buried under his fingernails.

Greyback bore him to the ground, the weight of him pressing Draco's limp prick into the dirt. “Just like that, pretty. So tight when I hurt you.”

Tears formed puddles as they dripped down his chin, his cock almost raw from the constant grind as Greyback pounded into him again and again.

He could feel the man's cock swelling, pressing against swollen, aching tissue as he fucked him. It seemed ages before he realized what the increased girth meant and yet only seconds that he fought the humiliation of being bred like a bitch before Greyback began to come, pumping him full of his dirty seed with a pleased and well-satisfied sounding grunt.

He left Draco lying in a puddle of leaking come as he went to piss. “Next time you'll know to have yourself stretched and loose, won't you, pretty?”

.oOo.

Draco took Greyback at his word and tried to keep himself stretched and prepared, even though his hands shook when he did it and there was nothing to use as lubricant so it really seemed more like another exercise in futility.

But it was something to make it a little less painful when Greyback took him. A little. Because the werewolf had no concept that anal sex more than twice in one day was painful even in normal circumstances. When the person doing the penetrating wanted to rip through the other with his cock, it was even worse.

At first Draco kept a scratch mark tally of the number of times Greyback had fucked him. But soon, adding upwards of five marks a day spoiled him on the idea. It was better to survive and never know.

Some days, if he was good and didn't fight, Greyback settled for fucking Draco's mouth. It was better because it gave Draco's ravaged arse a break, but it was worse because Greyback made him get on his knees and beg for a taste first.

Some days Draco preferred Greyback fucking him, it let him disappear into a place inside that he couldn't reach when he had to focus on watching his teeth. Greyback had already made it very clear what he would do at the smallest scrape.

Far better to brace himself and ride out the attack.

.oOo.

His life was only hot piss on cold skin, aching knees and bruising lips. And discovering there was no comfortable position in which to sit and that squatting felt too much like an animal.

.oOo.

It was hard not to scream when Greyback parted the cheeks of his arse for the third time that morning. Hard to hold the tears back and not bow his head in shame at what he knew the man was seeing.

His hole, torn and pulsing, leaking blood and come. Draco shuddered as Greyback pressed his erection against his skin.

“So ready for me, pretty Draco,” the disgusting man cooed. “Open and wet, ready for me to fill you again.”

Draco nodded, because he was supposed to and if he didn't, Greyback would alternate his cock between Draco's arse and mouth until there was no more blood or come for him to lick off.

He was supposed to want it.

“Please,” he breathed shallowly as Greyback rubbed his cock across his arse. A silent message: _he had to do better. He had to beg prettier_.

His eyes watered and he couldn't blink it away before a tear slid down his cheek. He watched it land in the dirt with a small puff of dust.

“Please, Fenrir,” he moaned as loudly as he could, pressing his arse against the older man's groin. “I want it. I want your cock.” He was grateful to be facing the ground, the disgust at having to say those words could not be hidden.

He grimaced when that did not satisfy the werewolf.

“Rip me open,” he begged. “Fill my arse with your come.”

Finally it was enough, Greyback could never hold back long when Draco really asked for it.

The werewolf's growl was the only warning Draco got before a hard cock shoved past his battered entrance. And Greyback didn't stop once he was fully seated inside Draco, he pulled away completely before pressing back in, glorying in the sensation of first penetration with a lusty howl.

Draco winced, more tears joining the first. Ragged nails dug into his hips and Draco shuddered before forcing a moan and rocking back into the press of Greyback's cock.

Beast that he was, Greyback wasn't much for stamina. Draco was grateful for that even if it only meant the man tore him apart inside while he was there. And he had astounding recovery time. It was barely eleven and Draco knew that Greyback would fuck him again before midday.

Draco grimaced, maybe that meant he would get to eat today.

.oOo.

Dawn was a welcome comfort, pale beautiful light shading through the treetops. Draco stared at it in grateful relief.

He had survived another full moon.

Draco brushed the dirt and twigs off of his body, pausing where pine needles bit and clung painfully to his skin.

He stretched slowly, relishing the feel of loosening his sleep-cramped muscles. Another glance at the sky spurred him on. Fenrir would return soon and he would want water.

Draco took his jug, trudging familiarly through the briars and brambles that marked the path to their stream.

The water was frigid, splashing against him as he filled the water jug. He needed a bath, but that would have to wait until the sun warmed the water.

Still it was beautiful, peaceful in the small clearing beside the water. And welcome after the monthly prolonged terror under the moon.

The loud snap of a twig was not surprising, unwelcome though expected as it was. He turned, jug in hand, ready to serve.

Ceramic shattered, soaking the ground and Draco's skin as the jug fell from his suddenly lax grip.

Fenrir bore him to the ground.

Rocks dug into his knees and buried themselves in his palms. Foul breath whispered over his skin, growls weighing down on him.

Draco kept his head bowed. He didn't scream anymore, biting into his lips until blood ran down his chin, even as it felt like he was being ripped in half over and over. The blood excited the beast in the man, he was more vicious when he had Draco bleeding, but Draco couldn't make himself cry out. Couldn't give him the satisfaction of his screams.

.oOo.

Draco didn't make a sound as Fenrir rolled him onto his back gently. It was best not to draw attention to the fact that it hadn't hurt, the man was prone to fits of anger over the slightest noise.

Later the blond would wonder if the werewolf had known they were being tracked. It didn't matter in the end; Potter had never arrived in time to save him before.

Fenrir's hands on him were almost hesitant, touching Draco as though he had never done it before.

Draco let him, confused and afraid of the change in the older man's behavior.

Rough hands stroked over his chest and stomach, gripping his hips to pull him closer. Open him wider.

Draco swallowed nervously. In all the time Fenrir had had him, he'd never used Draco this way. And despite his instinctive misgivings, Draco could feel his body beginning to respond to the care. Blood pumped into his slowly rising cock, it twitched when Fenrir took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the scent of Draco's arousal for the first time.

The grin he treated Draco to was terrifying. "Like it sweet and gentle, pretty?" He cupped Draco's arse, spreading his cheeks. "Such a pretty girl you would have been, all spread out for me."

Draco couldn't refute it, not if he wanted to keep his bits intact. Fenrir's nails were far too close to delicate parts for Draco to anger him.

Draco knew Fenrir knew he knew that. And yet his smile was only pleased as he licked a wet stripe over the length of Draco's cock.

He almost didn't stop the moan in time, biting down on his lower lip at the last moment though he couldn't stop the needy shuffle of his hips. The pleasure was a shock to his system after so long without, his first orgasm in what was left of his recent memory building embarrassingly fast.

Fenrir let him get closer and closer, precome dripping out of his aching cock, the feeling unlike anything he'd ever experienced.

Draco's hands scrabbled at the ground beneath him, searching for purchase on anything in his effort to hold himself back.

He needn't have worried what punishment coming would have earned him.

Fenrir's ragged nails were only a little sharper than a normal man's would be, so he had to put a lot of pressure behind dragging them down Draco's soft belly.

Draco screamed, overwhelmed by the proximity to true pleasure before the pain was ripped out of him. He couldn't wriggle out from under the man, fearing how much deeper those nails could gouge, vital organs having little protection on his thinned frame. It was too much to assimilate, the rush of blood to his stomach, cock suddenly soft after being so close to coming.

His heart felt like it might explode, his pulse pounding in his ears.

And then he felt the werewolf's teeth digging into his hip.

.oOo.

He burned with it, the fire of disease racing through every vein as he screamed and thrashed against the dirt and grit grinding into his back.

“So sweet,” Fenrir laughed, licking Draco's blood from his fingers before burying himself inside the boy again.

The new pain was hazy in the wake of his change.

“Come now, little Draco,” Greyback whispered maliciously. “You have to put up better sport for me.”

Draco shook, heaving breaths out as he fought for consciousness.

Fenrir ignored him after that, fucking him deep, past the point of pain; forced his knees against his thin chest, the wounds on his stomach gaping wider. 

Draco seized gratefully onto his hazy inner world.

.oOo.

Strong hands gripped his hips, peeling Fenrir's fingers away from his skin, and even that hurt, aching  
through the burn of the disease in his veins. He could hear growling and a scuffle, his body tensing when they came too near. He groaned, fingers digging deep into the dirt beneath him.

Sharp voices called out above him, hands pressing into his shredded skin. He had to bite into his lip to keep from screaming at them, from striking out when they touched his hip. He tried to push them away, fingers aching as they released the dirt. They were hazy shadows through the film of tears clouding his eyes. He could see, but he couldn't.

A blur of red and a vivid glimpse of green before the familiar length of a wand pressed against his temple and he slipped mercifully, gratefully, into unconsciousness.

**Author's Note:**

> As I said, this series is a bit of a choose your own adventure setup, so:
> 
> If you prefer a more dominant wolf Draco: [Dynamics of Perfection](http://archiveofourown.org/works/952285)
> 
> If you like a submissive wolf Draco: [Expecto Patronum](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1721633)
> 
> If a feral wolf Draco is your cup of tea: (still a wip)


End file.
